This is not about a sanctioned Dartmouth 100-mile event, and indeed it has nothing really to do with the school. This is about my own journey to run the Dartmouth 50 route out and back, beginning and ending at the DOC on campus, following the Appalachian Trail, and turning around at the Ravine lodge.

When I moved to the Upper Valley 5 years ago, I wasn’t really a runner. I had done some big runs in the mountains - mostly hiking - but I didn’t run regularly or identify as a runner. When I began running more regularly, moving quickly through the mountains was still my inspiration, and running served as a means to that end. It is perhaps a surprise then that it was things like UVRC’s Tuesday Night Track that drew me in and helped shape me as a regular runner. A “real runner” - or at least, someone who identifies as a runner. But the community kept me coming back, and as I learned, speed builds efficiency, and that’s what I would need to travel long distances in the mountains.

The 100 mile distance is daunting, and the more experience I got going long in the mountains, the more respect I gained for it. It is a very long way. When I finally committed to trying it, I wanted the experience to be mine and to learn from it and grow from it as much as possible. So I selected something rather difficult: The Dartmouth 50 course as an out-and-back… but all by myself, without support or stashed food or supplies, filtering water and bringing everything else I might need from start to finish. The route is 102 miles with 30,000 ft of elevation gain. That’s a lot, even by big mountain ultramarathon standards. This was a Big Scary Goal, but it excited me!

In all, things went about as well as one can hope for. During a 36-hour run, a lot can go wrong! After the first few miles, I settled into a maintainable effort, and was moving and eating fairly well. The terrain is steep and footing seldom smooth. Even those sections which are “runnable”, I took quite easy, seldom surging past a trot, knowing I had a long way to go. This is the great part about ultra-distance runs: There often really isn’t that much running! I hiked mostly, and trotted or jogged the downhills and precious few flats. Stopping for water and clothing shifts, etc, basically ate up any speed advantage from running and my net pace was that of a hike.

There is probably a better time of year to do this kind of thing, but as it worked out, I finished on my birthday, and the day before my son’s birthday. Perhaps not particularly poetic, but it added to the meaning of the trip for me, and gave a good excuse to eat a lot of birthday cake!

Earlier in the year, I ran hard half-marathon, 5k, and track mile races and time trials. Very little about running 100 miles in the mountains feels like those events. At no point did I ever push hard during the Dartmouth 100. There was never the burn of legs and lungs. Any wind was the weather, not my own pace. The slow grind of it certainly wore on me, but I tried to smile at least once each mile. Smiling makes me feel better, even when I’m hurting, and it improves running economy. 

Going out on trails to travel 100 miles under my own power is a preposterous and privileged thing to do, and I tried to appreciate it. At one point, in the rain about 40 miles in, I was sulking and thinking about quitting. Two south-bound AT through-hikers passed me, smiling with cheery greetings. These folks have to put up with this stuff for weeks. Getting wet might mean a wet sleeping bag for days, or at least wet shoes and clothes for a while. And they are smiling! There was nothing to do but put on my rain jacket, try to smile, and keep going.

Some highlights of the trip include: seeing nobody on the summit of Mt. Moosilauke twice (really, in the clouds, I saw almost nothing at all up there), some really gorgeous leaves both on trees and on the ground, ridiculous hills covered in acorn ball bearings, an apple tree leaning over the trail, from which I snagged two delicious apples, and the encouraging words I occasionally received via text message on peaks with cell service. Several times on route, I thought about how I often don’t hike Mt. Moosilauke because it feels far away, yet here I was running there and back!

It was a great adventure, and I had huge support from my wife letting me get out for two days while she was a solo parent, and from the trail running community who keep me company training, and help inspire me to silly, big ideas like this. Running has as many meanings and purposes as participants. Each of us can define our own goals and dreams. But make some of them big, and a little scary. 

A trip report with gear lists and too many details is on fastestknowntime.